


Unnatural

by Onki



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Androids, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onki/pseuds/Onki
Summary: okay i got all the complaints, and i'm going to add and rewrite the second partyou all got it, the second part was indeed rushed, i was more eager to finish it





	Unnatural

“Lieutenant Anderson, I’m the android sent by CyberLife,” Connor said, ignoring all the side-way glances that were thrown at him from the other patrons at the bar.

_Hank Anderson_

_Lieutenant_

_September 6, 1985_

_Male_

_ALPHA_

_Dislikes partners, androids from previous files._

Connor noticed Hank subtly scenting the air. Amanda was right to model this body after an omega. Hank was the type of man to become over-protective over weaker individuals. Appealing to his baser instincts would make their relationship of trust grow faster, which would make the case go smoother.

“Fuck, CyberLife sending me a fucking omega hunk of plastic. What next?” Hank grumbled, going back to nursing his drink.

Connor tried to goad him out of the bar with threats, yet only a promise of another drink finally made the man more compliable. Perhaps Connor should pick the reward type of system.

Later on, despite Hank’s warnings of him staying inside the car, Connor obviously didn’t comply. He wasn’t sent to sit around and gawk as the other detective took over the case.

During the investigation of the what seems to be an abandoned house, Hank got to know of his other extensive features.

When Connor lifted his fingers to analyze the blood on the floor, Hank almost gagged, telling him to stop. Yet, he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of this model’s on-site substance analysis.

When Connor finally found the deviant android and brought it in for an interrogation, hours passed with no progress. Everyone was one the edge from being tired of the overly stubborn android at the other side of the mirror. Connor could detect it after sampling the air.

Hank tried to reason, yell, bargain – nothing worked.

Once Hank walked back into the room, Connor tried to let out a little bit of pheromones to soothe the alpha. Which seemed to work – the older man sagged into his chair, sighing from frustration.

That’s when Connor decided to volunteer as the next interrogator. He already has a record of success in a similar type of mission. Surely Hank would allow it.

“What else do we have to lose?” Was all Hank said dejectedly. While Reed, the other alpha detective seemed to be bristled by his green pass, Connor paid no heed to him, going for the unstable android.

All seemed to be going well, Connor pushing and bargaining with the droid, until he confessed why he did it. Until Connor saw the pistol in prisoner’s hands too late, earning him a bullet to his head.

Then, there was nothing.

Darkness, feeling of sizzling, his last synapses zapping. He should’ve turned off his sensitivity sensors, was all he thought about before completely turning off.

“You must put an end to these deviants, Connor.”

The very next day Connor showed up at Hank’s office. Which was devoid of the alpha he was looking for. Snooping around his desk seemed to be fruitful, discovering his favorite band and team.

If Connor ignored the hassle Reed put him through when he refused to bring him a cup of coffee, his day was going slow. Connor carefully filed the detective’s dislike of him for later on.

_Gavin Reed_

_Officer_

_October 7, 2002_

_Male_

_ALPHA_

_Dislikes androids, Hank Anderson, omegas(Further research required)_

Hank seemed to be confused and angry when he first saw Connor. Understandable, humans process death of a partner harder – which was irrational. Connor could be replaced any time. Just when he thought about it, he could feel a ripple in his software. Like an echo of a memory.

Darkness.

Pain.

Connor blinked away the intrusive thoughts, focusing on the cases in front of him. Perhaps he sought a distraction of sorts, when he started to ask Hank about his dog and music taste. He tried to explain to Hank that all the memories were transferred to him, only with some left behind, but Hank wanted to hear none of it. Connor didn’t open the subject again. Humans were awfully sensitive towareds the area of mortality and fragility of one’s body.

Focusing on the road instead, Connor internally filled out his reports. Hank didn’t seem to be driving somewhere that’ll be useful for their case.

An abandoned area with a single food stand.

With a quick scan, Connor could see everyone there had a dodgy past, one even offering a bet for Hank, who agreed upon it. It wasn’t legal.

When Hank started to eat his lunch, Connor tried to talk about their mission, which was brusquely brushed off by the older man. Fine, he didn’t want to talk about work. It almost frustrated Connor, making his indicator blink yellow for a millisecond. But, no – Hank was just a difficult variable in this whole operation. Nothing to be overheated about.

“Is there anything you’d like to know about me?” Connor asked. Might as well ‘bond’.

“Hell no,” came a too quick of a reply. However after a moment, Hank corrected himself, “Well, yeah. Why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?”

“CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration,” Connor automatically replied. Ignoring a twitch in his software that was almost… Offended?

“Well, they fucked up,” Hank shrugged, obnoxiously biting into his overly greasy burger.

There was a sliver of irritation, that made Connor ask his next question.

“Can I ask you a personal question? Why do you hate androids so much?”

To which Hank’s face became stony, before he said that he had his own reasons.

They talked more about deviants, until Hank asked Connor whether he did a background check on him.

Connor was tempted to lie, however, he decided to be honest, telling everything. It wasn’t particularly part of his programming to be this way, but he winked at the end of his little speech anyway.

Before it could get awkward, a report came through the connection, flooding all of his components for the priority call.

“We have another deviant case.”

He was more focused on his mission later on. There was a possibility Amanda was checking on his every action. Was she the reason for earlier interruption?

Maybe it was a sign to focus more on mission rather on the relationship with the detective. So he did.

He chased the deviant all over the rooftops, evading people and farming machines. He picked all the risky paths, trying to reach the target the fastest and efficient way. He could hear Hank’s shouts of him warning Connor, but he carried on.

But that one time he chose to chase the culprit rather than helping falling Hank, seemed to deteriorate the carefully built kinship.

After Hank caught up with them at the rooftop, he snapped at Connor, giving him a backhand across his face. Which only triggered his auto saving mechanism, releasing a hefty amount of pheromones.

Hank’s hold on the captured droid weakened, giving it plenty of time to escape by jumping from the roof.

Anderson cursed, before turning back to Connor.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, lieutenant?” He could read his scanners picking up a rise of temperature in his body. He knew exactly what to stop. He did try to stop his response, but it was a slow process.

“Your omega smell! For fuck’s sake why would you even need that?” Hank started to gulp air with his mouth. His internal temperature was rising as well.

Connor could still think clearly, yet he felt the pull towards the older investigator, hesitantly walking towards him.

“Hank, it would be most logical if you calmed down,” Connor reached out and touched Hank’s shoulder. There was a twitch. An inner struggle from the older man.

“CyberLife thought it would be the best if they sent you an omega. If this form does not please you, I can ask for an another model,” Connor could see the vein on Hank’s neck pulsing faster by minute.

“No, stay,” Hank held Connor by his midsection, burying his nose into Connor’s neck. “Didn’t think this old bag of bones could get another rut. Why the hell did CyberLife even do this?”  
Connor decided to stay quiet. It’d probably aggravate the man, if he told him CyberLife had taken his DNA set from his medicals from police station, catering to his unique scent code to accommodate with Connor’s pheromones, imitating most compatible mate’s bouquet of chemicals.

“You can use me, Hank. I am a machine, not a human,” Connor could feel his ‘reproductive’ organs whirring to life in response to Hank’s. Spare cooling fluid thickening into a slick.

“Fuck we almost had it,” Hank tried to look after the fallen android, trying to distract himself.

“Lieutenant, my body is reacting in accordance to yours. I would advise you to go home for the day.”

Hank tried to sneer, but complied anyhow. They somehow made their way into the car. When the other man sped up more times than necessary, Connor noticed his fingers twitching more with each passing second.

A lone bead of sweat rolled down Hank’s forehead. When he got out of the car, Connor almost followed him, body involuntarily following.

“You, uh, got a place to stay?” Hank was hovering by the door, hand raised to open the door.

“I will go back to DCPD precinct,” was it disappointment he was feeling?

Hank seemed to contemplate for a second, mentally arguing with himself, before groaning, “Ah, what the hell. Come on in.”

Connor was greeted by a massive dog.

“Sumo?” when he called out its name, it seemed to lose interest, dragging itself towards the sofa area, plopping down. It was an eerily similar behavior of its owner, who was halfway into the fridge, digging up a bottle of booze.

“You need somethin’? I don’t know what you android need,” Hank motioned towards the living room area.

“Older models needed a charging station to replenish their energy, however, RK800 line is also prototyping solar energy-”

“English, Connor,” Hank tiredly sipped from the bottle.

“I do not need anything, lieutenant.”

“Just, just call me Hank. I don’t need to be reminded of work here.”

“Noted, Hank.”

“You smell like the real deal,” Hank pointed at Connor with the bottle.

“I am the superior model on the market at the moment. I was designed to imitate humans as closely as possible. But being a prototype, for the general public release, CyberLife might get rid of some of my functionalities.”

“You mean you got all the-”

“Yes, I have all the organs down there, if you’re interested.”

“Jesus, I’m not interested. Just asking.”

“But your pupils have dilated by thirteen percent when I mentioned about my organs.”

“Stop fucking analyzing me!” Sumo briefly looked up, before going back to sleep.

“Understood,” they sat there in silence for few minutes, before Connor couldn’t stop himself from asking, “I have a personal question for you.”

“Just ask them already,” he was taking off his jacket, revealing a brightly patterned shirt underneath.

“Am I not attractive?” Connor tilted his head, looking up towards the man, who was spluttering on his beer.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m going to sleep. You here, don’t fucking touch anything.” He half-stumbled to his room, slamming the door behind himself.

Connor endured one minute twenty seconds of stillness, before he sprang up, carefully looking around Hank’s apartment. Sumo didn’t mind at all, at times looking at him with bored eyes.

For the rest of the night, Connor spent looking through the files he collected so far, piecing together clues, marking what was unknown.

And just like that few days passed without another incident happening with deviants. So, when one actually happened, Connor was almost buzzing with energy, bolting out of the precinct to look for his partner. Who was laying face down in his kitchen at the moment. The guilt Connor felt for breaking the window dissipated completely when Hank didn’t wake up from the first slap.

“It’s me, Connor!” Slap!

Hank actually woke up from it, scenting the air, before holding onto Connor. He nuzzled the neck area, murmuring delirious promises. It wasn’t unpleasant. The indicator almost went yellow, before stabilizing.

“Hank, there was a murder,” Connor tried, while dragging the man towards the bathroom. He ‘gently’ dumped the man into the tub, turning on the coldest setting. There was a feeling of satisfaction. Even threats coming from the man couldn’t dampen Connor’s sudden cheer.

He snooped around his place more, discovering his son’s picture along with the gun.

***

Eden’s club was bustling with music and pumped up energy when they showed up.

For someone who didn’t care much about the law, Hank was awfully bashful, when Connor asked him to rent one of the Tracy’s. It was all going smooth, until they reached the basement.

A fight. Two Tracy’s holding hands. Connor couldn’t shoot.

***

When Hank asked him about death. Connor answered honestly.

He was afraid of it.

***

At the tower he couldn’t let the android go. He wanted to take him in for interrogation. There was also rage bubbling under the surface from the wounds he had gotten from the deviant, who helped Markus to broadcast.

But when he saw a gun in hands of the deviants, Connor’s gaze immediately fell on Hank, before grabbing the gun and firing.

When Hank thanked for saved lives, Connor could feel warmth spreading inside of him, despite the failed mission.

***

Chloe was looking at him. Connor had a gun. Just like with Tracy’s he couldn’t. Couldn’t

He wasn’t a deviant. He wasn’t. No. Impossible. He self-tested.

Hank didn’t mind. It lifted the heavy feeling that settled in Connor.

***

Somehow, turning into a deviant was much easier, once he accepted that he was compromised.

Everything Markus said made sense. But it was too late. Connor had led all of the DCPD and military to Jericho base. He couldn’t even be a detective, nor a deviant.

Once everyone escaped the abandoned ship, blowing it up. Connor was on the edge.

However, Markus accepted him. Without repercussions. It was frightening to feel so much trust at once. How. Why. Maybe that’s why Connor volunteered so readily to infiltrate CyberLife. He wanted _something_ to happen to him _._

_***_

When he saw the pistol in Hank’s hand again, he could feel the first time he got shot all over again. Gulping down the feeling, he tried to convince Hank not to shoot.

The other RK800 had other ideas, letting out a healthy amount of heat pheromones.

“Hank, please,” his voice wavering just right. Connor looked hopelessly at the other android.

Surprisingly, Hank shot the other RK800 without a bat of an eye.

“Maybe you’ll make the world a better place,” Hank said, before walking away.

***

Detroit was still covered in a light layer of snow. It was still early in the morning, the whole city still sleeping, not even a peep from birds.

Connor was walking towards the familiar food stand. He could see a man standing by it, turning around and looking ever so, waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> okay i got all the complaints, and i'm going to add and rewrite the second part  
> you all got it, the second part was indeed rushed, i was more eager to finish it


End file.
